


Blatantly Obvious (or, Like a fifteen-year old)

by therealfroggy



Category: House M.D.
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 19:47:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/601427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therealfroggy/pseuds/therealfroggy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hickies? On Wilson? What could this be?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blatantly Obvious (or, Like a fifteen-year old)

Wilson had never felt so visible in his entire life. As he moved through the hospital, seeing patients and delivering charts to the nurses' station, he felt as if a huge, crimson spotlight with accompanying porno music was on him. And he just knew everyone was looking at him.

Of course, no one actually said anything. They were all very tactful; nurses and patients alike. Until, of course, he met Cuddy, and she almost dropped the clipboard she was carrying.

“Wilson!” she said, eyebrows climbing. “Well.”

Wilson blushed, he just knew he did. He certainly felt his face go all hot. “Cuddy.”

The chief of medicine gave him a suspicious look. “Nice date?”

Wilson shrugged. “Well, kind of.” He was so embarrassed!

“Usually I don't meddle in my doctors' private affairs,” she said, dipping a hand into her purse. Withdrawing it, she handed him a small metal object – a make-up item, if he wasn't much mistaken. “But I suggest you go put some concealer on that hickie before patients start questioning whether you're serious about the job.”

***

“Ouch! I see she did her hyena thing,” House said, grinning at Wilson as the other man entered his office. The ducklings turned from the whiteboard to look at the oncologist, confused.

“Who?” Cameron asked, smiling encouragingly.

“Cuddy, that's who,” House said, finishing the word _Trauma_ on the board with a flourish. “Did she freak out about the hickie?”

Chase's eyebrows sky-rocketed. Foreman gave House a sceptical look.

“Wilson, Cuddy and a hickie?”

The older man grinned evilly. “Yeah. You should have seen her snarl when Wilson smelled of someone else's preferred toiletries.”

The ducklings stared at Wilson, incredulous.

“Are you doing her?” Foreman asked, looking from House to Wilson. “I thought you were married!”

“Cuddy is one scary female when she hasn't had her fill for a while. And he's been divorced for quite some time,” House commented, making himself a cup of coffee. “Give the man a break; how long can a man go without sex without going insane?”

“Judging by you, a day, tops,” Wilson snapped, glaring at House. “You're clearly not getting enough, if this is how you waste your employees' time.”

The ducklings were very silent, aware that they were witnessing an aggressive Wilson – a rare enough sight, even when malicious House was involved.

“Oh, snap!” House exclaimed, looking outraged. “You got me!”

Wilson threw his hands up, then turned to leave. “Fine! If you just called me here to ask how Cuddy reacted to seeing a hickie on my throat – one that she did _not_ make – then I'll leave and go do something useful.”

“Hang on, Jimmy,” House said, winking at him. “We need a consult. Foreman, fill him in on the case.”

***

“You complete and utter bastard!” Wilson said, kicking House's chair viciously. House gave a start as his chair sailed off across the floor.

“What are you doing?” he said, using his cane to push off from the wall and drag his chair back to the desk. “Jimmy, you rascal, how can you kick someone in a wheelchair?”

“It's not a wheelchair just because it's got small wheels at the base, Gregory,” Wilson said angrily.

House looked at him with narrowing eyes. “You're calling me by my first name with all the syllables,” he said, reaching for his ´thinking ball.` He tossed it up in the air, deftly catching it when it fell back down. “You're really, really angry with me. What's up?”

“You made a blatantly obvious hickie on my throat, and Cuddy's made me put concealer on it and you're mocking me in front of your employees!”

“Oh, don't get your panties in a twist, the ducklings won't mind. They're very open-minded,” House said, then got up to pour himself another cup of coffee. “Well, maybe not Chase, but the others are.”

“That's completely beside the point!” Wilson yelled, taking a step towards the other man before changing his mind and stopping. “You idiot! When I told you, ´No marks,` did that translate as ´Go ahead and suck my neck off` in Housian?”

House grinned. “That wasn't your neck I sucked off, if I recall -”

“Beside the point!” Wilson interrupted through gritted teeth. “You gave me a hickie! I specifically told you not to! Why do you insist on making life difficult for me?”

“Now we're talking semantics,” House said, returning to his desk. “I'm not making your _life_ difficult; I'm making your _work_ fun. Or do you mean to tell me you didn't enjoy the looks on the ducklings' faces when I told them you're doing Cuddy?”

“You are aware, of course, that when Cuddy finds out, she's going to have your head served on a platter?” Wilson said, rubbing his temples. “And Cameron will go tell her; if I'm not much mistaken, she'll be up here in no time telling you to stay out of her personal life.”

As if on cue, the door opened violently to reveal an angry Cuddy, staring with murder in her eyes at the older man.

“What have you been telling people?” Cuddy snapped, planting her hands on her hips. “I couldn't care less what your employees think about who I'm seeing or not seeing, but I will not have you telling them that I would take advantages of my position to ´access` my male employees!”

House faked an insulted expression. “Dude! That's totally not what I told them! I just said you had Wilson so whipped he eats out of your expensive shoes.”

Cuddy rolled her eyes and threw her hands up in defeat. “You're insane. And stay out of my personal life; you have enough on your plate dealing with your own! You need to stop playing God.”

She left, glaring at Wilson too, for good measure.

House actually smiled then. “You were right.”

Wilson groaned. “House, you're an idiot! Why couldn't you just _not_ make the hickie, and there wouldn't be a problem? You're making this a lot more complicated than it has to be!”

Chase and Cameron were coming back. House got up, heading for the door to the diagnostics room. “All this aside, there's really only one issue we need to address here,” he said, hand on the handle of the door. “I gave you a blatantly obvious hickie because I wanted to make it blatantly obvious that you're not available.”

He entered his work room, and Cameron immediately swamped him with information on the latest developments in the case. Wilson remained where he was, gnashing his teeth.

***

“I'm not putting out tonight,” Wilson said, indifferent, when House placed a warm hand on his thigh that night. They were on House's couch, watching the latest episode of _The L Word_. Of course, House never watched that show without getting hard, and Wilson was usually around to do something about that.

“What?”

“You heard me,” Wilson said, shifting into a more comfortable position. “You can take care of things on your own.”

House looked downright insulted. “Jimmy, you cannot seriously be expecting me to watch The L Word and then not get some! What are you; some kind of sadist?”

Wilson almost laughed, but stopped himself in time. “No, I am the miffed partner, usually on the receiving end of our homosexual relationship. That means I get to decide when you get laid.”

House grinned. “Fine, be that way. You can top tonight.”

“It's not about that,” Wilson said impatiently. “I told you no, and you still made a hickie. I'm not sleeping with you – or blowing you, rimming you or jacking you off – until you understand why I'm angry with you.”

House huffed. “It's not about that, alright. If _you_ understood why I gave you the hickie, then you wouldn't be miffed at all.”

Wilson arched an eyebrow at his friend. “Do tell.”

“I already did,” House said calmly. “You're claimed and marked. I like seeing that hickie on your throat, when I can't make you wear a big sign saying, ´Mine. Do not touch`.”

Wilson frowned. “You want me to advertise that I'm your boyfriend?”

House shuddered. “Don't call it that; I hate that word. You're no one's _boyfriend_ ; you're my bitch.”

Wilson really laughed then, unable to stop himself. “Fine. You suddenly want people to know I'm taking it from you on a nightly basis?”

“Well, they don't have to know it's me who's giving it to you, dude! Just that you're not available.” The gruff doctor grinned boyishly.

Wilson sighed. “House, it's _blatantly obvious_ to everyone but you that I'm not in the market for a new partner of any kind. I haven't had a smile from a nurse for about a month; they hardly even look at me any more!”

House made a disbelieving face. “Are you trying to tell me that even without the hickies, people are suddenly able to resist your puppy-dog appearance and brown eyes like pools of sensuous chocolate?”

Wilson chuckled. “Everyone but you.”

“Well, then I guess I have no excuse for making the hickies,” House said sarcastically. “Come on, Jimmy! The only reason I make the hickies is that I like seeing them on you. I like looking at you when Cuddy's bitching on us and think about what we did the night before. And they match your ties so well!”

Wilson threw his hands up in defeat. “House, you're an impossible old bastard. Fine. You can make the hickies, but not on my throat and neck! You hear me?”

House grinned. “Anywhere else?”

“Nowhere from the neck and up,” Wilson corrected. “I'll punch you if you even think about making one on my face.”

“I wouldn't dream of it,” House said, smirking. “Now drop your trousers, I think I know exactly where I'm going to make the next one.”

Wilson stood up, hands on his buckle. “Are you going to say sorry for the huge, purple spot on my neck?”

“Of course not!” House exclaimed. “I'm not really sorry, and you know I don't like lying. I could say I'm sorry that Cuddy started screaming at you?”

Wilson sighed. “This is your last chance, House. If I find anything even resembling a hickie where it'll show tomorrow, then I'm moving out and you can go back to... masturbating in your empty apartment.”

House laughed, but inclined his head in agreement. “Deal.”

Wilson slowly undid his belt, then opened his trousers and slid them just a few inches down. “Did you say I can top?”

House sighed in mock exasperation. “Yes, yes, you can top! There's really no pleasing you, is there?”

“Oh, I think you'll _please_ me well enough in about half an hour,” Wilson said, grinning at his own horrible innuendo. House rolled his eyes.

House impatiently pushed the younger man's trousers down, leaning forwards. Wilson felt his breath over the skin of his thighs, and stood very still, waiting for the older man to make a move.

Wilson grunted in surprise when House's teeth caught an area of flesh towards the inside of his right thigh, and then House's lips caught up and Wilson felt the suction tease his skin.

“How original,” he said flatly as House pulled away a few heartbeats later, a small love-bite standing out against the pale skin of Wilson's leg. “You couldn't come up with a better place?”

House's hands, firmly planted on the back of Wilson's thighs, pulled the younger man closer, then teeth and lips latched onto his hip, just above his pelvic bone.

Wilson gently threaded his hands through the thinning hair of his friend, smiling indulgently down at him. He didn't understand House's reasoning half of the time, but he didn't actually care. He didn't mind the hickies either, as long as they weren't visible above his shirt collar. And the warmth and wetness of House's mouth had him weak at the knees.

House finished his work and stood up. “We're moving to the bedroom.”

Wilson grinned, remembering the last time he'd tried to fuck House on the couch. No prizes for guessing who took more than his usual dosage of Vicodin that night.

Kicking off his briefs and trousers, Wilson began unbuttoning his shirt as he followed House into the bedroom. He didn't like wasting time undressing, but he didn't like to have to sew his buttons back on because House got impatient, either. Before they reached the bed, he was naked and hard for the older man.

“You young people,” House snarked, “always so eager. Wait for me, would you?”

Wilson did most of the undressing, too impatient to wait for House. Within seconds, the teeshirt was off, and then House's belt was whipped out of its hoops.

“Get on the bed,” Wilson suggested, tugging playfully on the zip of House's jeans. “I'll help you with these.”

House grinned and did as he was told, a rare occurrence in itself. And when Wilson removed the last pieces of clothing on his body, he further upset the order of existence by smiling. Not smirking, not grinning, simply smiling.

“Yes, yes, I know you love me,” Wilson laughed, then crawled up on the bed to join House, whose socks he'd just thrown to the floor. “On your back?”

“Side,” House countered, rolling away from Wilson so the younger man could spoon him, House's bad leg on top.

Wilson was already tearing the foil off a condom, the lube on the night stand. He put the condom on, lubed them both up, then paused. “Preparation?”

“Two,” House said, pressing back against the other man.

Wilson groaned. When House said two fingers, that meant he just wanted a little play before things got serious. Usually Wilson barely got his fingers in before House told him to get a move on. He pushed two fingers inside the other man, carefully, and House groaned with pleasure.

“Harder,” he panted, gripping the pillow. Wilson had to bite the older man's shoulder to stop the hungry moan filling his chest. He bit down gently, just where House's neck met his shoulder, and pushed his fingers in deeper, scissoring them.

“Enough play already, get down to business,” House told him, and Wilson chuckled.

“You're worse than a fifteen-year old when it comes to sex, you know that?” the younger man said, breathing hot air over House's earlobe. He nipped it playfully. “Are you sure you don't sneak off in the middle of work to jerk off?”

House made a small sound of discomfort as Wilson began pushing inside him, but pushed back eagerly. “No, I'm saving myself for you.”

Wilson's heart swelled a little at that, despite it being typically House sarcasm. Because even as he was fucking the other man on his bed, he didn't always know how serious House was about them.

“Need a hand?” Wilson panted, reaching around to stroke the other man carefully. House's erection was hot and smooth in his hand.

House made a deep sound of agreement as Wilson began flicking his thumb over the head, stroking expertly just like he knew the older man liked it. “Harder,” House insisted, clutching the pillow in a white-knuckled grip. “Jimmy, harder, dammit!”

“Kind of difficult in this position,” Wilson huffed, using his hand on House's cock to push them together with more force.

“Nonsense,” House moaned. “You're doing fine.”

The strokes got deeper, Wilson pushing in as far as he could go. House let his head roll back into his partner's shoulder, Wilson's cheek against his. They were both panting, grunting, as they rutted on the bed.

“Greg,” Wilson growled, feeling the older man clench around him. “Oh, fuck, Greg, you're tight, you know that?”

House's breath hitched; he grabbed Wilson's thigh to push himself back against the other man. “Really.”

“So tight,” the younger man grunted, pushing hard. House inhaled sharply as his partner's cock grazed his prostate roughly. “You're so... tight... Oh, pleasefuckGreg, do that again!”

House tightened around the hardness inside him, pulling on Wilson's hip to take him deeper. Wilson cried out, burying his face in House's neck. He licked at the skin there with broad swipes of his tongue, wanting to fully taste everything House.

“Jimmy!” House grabbed Wilson's wrist, urging him on as the older man's breath came faster and sharper. Wilson stroke his partner's erection quickly, wanting to feel House come around him. And he did; House gave a shout of pleasure and spilled over Wilson's hand, his fingernails digging into the skin of Wilson's wrist.

“Tight,” Wilson repeated in a whisper as House clenched around him again, in climax this time. He had to bite his lip hard not to come as he felt the grizzled doctor tremble next to him, his warm come coating Wilson's fingers with slickness.

And Wilson couldn't contain it; he gave a little whimper and came hard, still pounding into House. He bucked into him, feeling his body spasm and shudder, fucking out the last of his orgasm into Gregory House, nothing separating them but a thin layer of rubber.

Heaving for breath, the two men rolled apart, Wilson slowly removing the used condom and House stretching out to get more comfortable on the bed. Wilson got up to throw the condom, and when he returned, House was already falling asleep.

Or pretending to, at any rate.

“You don't want to take a picture of us together in bed?” Wilson asked sarcastically. “Just to make it absolutely clear that we're together?”

“I think the bite marks on my neck will do the trick, for now,” House muttered, then turned over and grinned at Wilson. “And just in case that didn't work, I wrote ´I love House` on your office door.”

Wilson gaped at him. “No you didn't. You're joking, right?”

“Waterproof marker. Dark blue. I think Cuddy'll like it,” the older man said, pulling the covers up and settling in among the pillows.

Wilson groaned. “You... you incorrigible old bastard!”

House laughed. “Incorrigible? Don't be such a baby; at least it's _blatantly obvious_ now.”

Wilson got into bed, turned out the lights and pulled his half of the covers up. “I'll say one thing; you never do anything halfway, do you?”

House closed his eyes, smirking slightly. “Never.”


End file.
